TUPAC IS DEAD; THUG LIFE IS NOT

The Don Makaveli, a.k.a. Tupac Amaru Shakur, passed away twelve years and four days ago at 25 years of age, from still-unclaimed bullets in the streets of Las Vegas. We can't bring him back, yet we've continued to study his every move in life and death (and in the minds of some, his resurrection).

He said himself, in an interview with Vibe Magazine, "Thug Life to me is dead. If it's real, let somebody else represent it, because I'm tired of it. I represented it too much."





The man was a cult of personality, but he died way too early and for a cause that has still not quite been identified or taken up in a positive way--let's be honest. But the truth is even more tragic; it's 2008, and "Thug Life" lives on without it's founding father. Guns are still used for us, by us. Drugs are sold in similar fashion. Prison sentences await those who take either path, and boys remain boys as girls become women. Fathers are invisible, futures are bleak. Civil rights are revoked, voter registration fails. And tomorrow's soldiers remain stuck in the ageless trap of being righteous thugs.

Don't blame Tupac; blame our insistence on reincarnating the worst side of mankind through his name and image, over and over again. And the best way to avoid manufacturing more thugs for nationwide distribution, fueling the continuing state of mental, spiritual and financial poverty in the black community is to let the man rest in peace.

WHITE RAMBO vs. BLACK RAMBO: WHO KILLED IT?

People are always saying that Hip-Hop is too violent. And the general response to this statement from those defending Hip-Hop's right to using violent and vulgar rhetoric is that actors like Arnold Schwarzenegger and Sylvester Stallone have killed more people on film than any thugged-out rapper has killed MCs on wax.

So I came across two videos of two different Rambos. One uses the machine gun and the other uses his mouth as a weapon. You tell me: Which of the two deadly MCs is really killing it?


BLACK RAMBO:



WHITE RAMBO:



Seems to me that our Italian-American brother John Rambo is way realer than the OG from Compton. Gangster rap stays losing.

REALLY DEAD MCs

The Shogun of Harlem, Julius Carry III, IS REALLY DEAD.


The Last Dragon was a dope movie, if for no other reason than Vanity was in it and Berry Gordy produced it. Lest you forget, Vanity was fine as hell back in those days when she was on drugs and MAKING SONGS ABOUT GETTING SKEETED ON. Unfortunately, since she ditched Prince and found God (I didn't know he was lost), she's gained weight and lost her mojo. Ho-hum...





I've always wondered what the hell happened to Bruce Leroy. You always assumed that The Shogun just went back to being the bad MF that he was before the movie, but nice guys like Bruce Leroy don't make it in Hollywood. Either way, Bruce Leroy (too lazy to look up his real name) got the stage gaffled from under his feet whenever Sho Nuff entered the picture. Similar to The Dark Knight, in The Last Dragon the hero was outshined by the villain so much that we almost wish that the villain would get his own movie. This dude's style was so wild that Kanye even stole his swagger with the sun shades:





For his final encore, here's Julius Carry III performing the role that made him famous.




R.I.P. Shogun.

Who is the master?
I am.

THE GAME - L.A.X.: The Autopsy

I'm into true west coast gangster rap, because nothing else comes as close to the ugly realities of true life. And though some of you will doubtless disagree, The Game is, in my op, the best representation of Californian g-rap since the days of DJ Quik, N.W.A, Above The Law, M.C. Eiht and Westside Connection.

Tell the truth; Game practically bodied the entire G-Unit movement by himself just out of sheer will. His style has always been sort of the Pacific Coast yin to Curtis Jackson's Southside, Queens yang. Both have always seemed ready to be as disrespectful as necessary to lyrically embarrass their enemies, but when the two turned against each other, Game proved to be the better rapper, if not the smarter businessman.

L.A.X. continues the process of describing the City of Lost Angels to all outsiders. Like The Documentary and Doctor's Advocate, L.A.X. is heavy on the Dre-inspired soundscape, yet once again Dr. Dre makes no appearance behind the boards on production. In his place, Scott Storch (who needs the money), Cool & Dre, Irv Gotti, Nottz, J.R. Rotem, DJ Toomp, Hi-Tek and Kanye West all contribute some very high-def beats for Game's usual "I'm a Blood" steelo.





From the moment you hear DMX praying on the "Intro," you get a certain feeling that maybe God really does love the gangsters and vice-versa. X goes in pretty heavy with the prayer, giving the listener the idea that if he ever put down the microphone in the name of rap and picked it back up in the name of Jesus, without picking up the (you name it - pipe, blunt, bottle, needle, car keys, etc, etc...) again, he would probably have a congregation that would go far beyond the spiritual travesty that your boy Mason Betha pulled. Very dramatic and strangely appropriate.

From then on, you get what you expect. Game shows off his bounce-flow on "L.A.X. Files," which has a guy with a weird sense of tuning singing the chorus, but somehow it works out. From then on, the guest appearances start to flow in, with 'The Don Mega' Ice Cube showing up on the hook for "State of Emergency," Raekwon the Chef trading verses on "Bulletproof Diaries" and "My Life" featuring Lil' Wayne, which I can't get out of my head. Say what you will about Young Carter, but he can make your song pop if he really wants to, and the T-Pain device works well with him on certain tracks.

I have several favorite songs on L.A.X., and I've only been listening to it for 12 hours. Right now, my choices are "Ya Heard" featuring Ludacris, "Never Can Say Goodbye," "Cali Sunshine" and "Dope Boys," which knocks major. As a matter of fact, the only song I'm not really digging thus far would be the main single, "Game's Pain," featuring Keyshia Cole. Sure, she's fine, but that doesn't mean I have to be a fan. I think she's a little overrated, personally. Plus, I don't get the part that's supposed to be painful. Why didn't they name the song "Homage?" Whatever, I guess. But that doesn't mean I think it was a bad move to put the song out first. Black women love Keyshia, and so does urban radio. Can't call it stupid at all.

"Never Can Say Goodbye" and "Letter to the King" serve as the albums' two best songs for their creativity and depth, where he raps about the deaths of Tupac, Biggie, Eazy-E and Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., respectively. Nas guests on the latter, as well as donating his vocal to the only interlude on the album, "Hard Liquor." "Angel" is another fly one that I played repeatedly on the drive from Atlanta to Birmingham this afternoon. And nobody can deny Chrisette Michelle, so "Let Us Live" wins on G.P. While I'm not crazy about Neo on a Game track ("Gentleman's Affair"), I do like the conflicting message. And let's face it: Game is known for being somewhat schitz.





Overall, by the time you get to the 19th track, DMX's prayerful "Outro," you shouldn't be mad at the Compton MC who has made his own way without significant assistance from Dr. Dre or 50 Cent since his debut album. L.A.X. is solid, and it will keep anyone from saying that Game was a flash in the pan, even if this really is his last LP as he has said. Hopefully, with the quality of this new joint, The Game will put the pistols away, stop with all the suicidal innuendos and realize that the game needs him.

FLOWERS

U.S. Representative Stephanie Tubbs Jones, the first African-American woman to represent Ohio in Congress, IS REALLY DEAD.

Rep. Tubbs Jones, who was also a member of the House Ways and Means Committee, was considered one of the more reliably liberal voices in Congress. She had a lifetime voting rating of 98 out of 100 on the American Civil Liberties Union's Congressional Scorecard. In 2003, she was one of 11 House members to oppose a resolution supporting the U.S. invasion of Iraq.

SOURCE: THE WASHINGTON POST

It can't be easy to be a black woman with political responsibilities in Washington, D.C. I can imagine one of my friends' mothers, or even my own, trying to work in an environment where you have to constantly push against a concrete dam of injustice to get even the slightest progress for the underprivileged. It seems like it could drive even the bravest soul to silence when you're always in the unseen minority.

Rep. Tubbs Jones did not let her skin color dictate her trajectory in the Congress. She worked extremely hard and had several important achievements, which you are more than welcomed to SEE FOR YOURSELF on her House website.


For her final encore, here is Representative Stephanie Tubbs Jones putting a CBS News reporter in her place for trying that pop-up-on-your-ass journalism trick. Old girl looked like she was a second away from what I call "the clap-slap."




R.I.P. Mrs. Tubbs Jones. I respect your authority.

BUN B @ THE LOFT: The Autopsy

Contrary to whatever the eff you thought, this blog represents Hip-Hop culture first. Check the column to your top right if you didn't already know. I know I get deep into the political game, but that doesn't mean that I'm devoted to Democrats more than I'm down to listen to your demo. More on that later...

There were mad weirdos in attendance at The Loft for the free Scion Metro concert performance of Bun-B @ The Loft in Atlanta. But it is my eternal opinion that weirdos, not gangstas, make the world go 'round. So that's why I felt so at home when the infamous Bun-B of UGK put on with a live band in my city. Word to world music, it was a great time.





Speaking of which, man, that damn band known as Orgone is all dat and dim sum. I got a chance to speak with FANNY FRANKLIN, the lead singer of ORGONE, and she was mad cool, even if our conversation was to remain off the record... What I will share is that she told me that the band was going through internal issues like all musical outfits, but she felt the love when she hit the stage with the group and she appreciated the fact that I recognized her outside of her stage constume. "That shows you were paying attention..."





By the way, she had an ill resemblance to the love of my life, Sade. So of course I was entranced. But not only was she fine as hell; the band was extra dope. And I can't help but point out that the main guitarist looked a lot like the drummer from the Muppets' band.







My girl in Alabama told me that Bun-B's recent performance this past week in Birmingham was quite lackluster. I told her that it was probably because Bun had no real incentive to give his all to the Magic City. Birmingham is not a major market, therefore it accounts for a very small amount of record sales. Bun-B doesn't really have to care about how the 'Ham feels about him or his stage performance. There is bigger money in bigger markets.

Yet the bigger reason to be excited about Bun's appearance in Atlanta was because he was performing with Orgone. He even admitted on stage that he had never before performed with a live band. Now, I don't know how true that statement is, but I take Big Bun at his word. After all, he does continue to keep it triller than any other rap artist in the game - southern or not.

Bun is naturally dope when fronting a band. It makes a southern Hip-Hop fanatic wonder why he hasn't tried a nationwide tour with The Roots or a southern derivative thereof. The south has a long history and wide heritage of birthing and building great musical artists with live instrumentation. If Bun wants to build a new career, I think he'd do great with a band of seven or eight hard-core cats in the background, not just a DJ. On that note, maybe JD was right...

Of course, Pimp C is dead, so UGK will never be the same. Of course, there will never be another UGK, because we are in a new era of Hip-Hop. Of course, Bun-B is affected by the death of his partner-in-rhyme, because they were the dynamic duo. But that doesn't mean that we can't appreciate the lyrical ability of a solo southern MC that has always been one of, if not the most efficient and exceptional rap artist from the south, besides Andre 3000. When you add the elements of live music in this mix, you might mess around and get pure magic, like last night in Atlanta.

Bun took control of the stage as soon as he stepped on the platform. With Orgone's assistance, he ripped through such classics as "Draped Up", "Big Pimpin'" and other UGK timepieces before cutting his hour-long stage set short around 1:30 a.m. Trust me, I was happy enough to pay my tab and leave after that, but that was before I saw what absolutely blew my mind...




Ceelo, Khujo, Big Gipp and T-Mo - all in the same room in Atlanta. I shook hands with all four of the original members of the Goodie Mob, telling them that I missed their music yet I was extremely proud to see them together again. Trust me, that shit is a major accomplishment. I would go so far as to assume that only one other brother did the same: MAURICE GARLAND. And I didn't even see Garland, but he got the flick, so props to him for having the camera ready.

If nothing else, the Scion show definitely showed that Bun-B is the true king of the south when it comes to Hip-Hop. Not Scarface, not T.I., and definitely not Lil' Wayne. Some will try to say that Bun is too old to claim the crown, but the truth is that nobody has been around as long and can still pull a devoted and loyal crowd like the still-living lyrical half of UGK.


Hip-Hop will never die, especially not in the south. Feel free to kill yourself if you can't stand the reign.

DAMN. (Even More Flowers)

I know you know, because everybody knows. For the record, I just figured that we should take a few extra days to remember Bernie Mac first. I mean, damn, two in one week? This reminds me of 2006, when THIS happened, immediately followed by THIS...


But alas, here we go. Isaac Hayes, pioneering soul man, IS REALLY DEAD. I needed a minute just to properly process the weight and depth of two separate deaths in the black community. I know, I know; black people die all the time. High blood pressure, blood sugar levels, drugs, AIDS, cancer, strokes, etc. But I don't think it's cool for black people to keep dying at or before the age of 65. And I don't always mean to make things seem so b/w, but these are huge losses for the hood.


I am afraid to wonder if too many people at or below the age of 21 are only going to remember Hayes as the voice of South Park's Chef. So let's examine a few of the other achievements and notable moments. He was inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 2002. He is the man who composed and performed the Shaft theme, which won an Oscar for Best Original Song. He was one of the main songwriters, producers and session players for Stax Records, the Memphis answer to Motown. He starred in movies, television shows and parodies. He had a charitable organization. He went bankrupt in the late seventies, losing the right to future royalties to anything he had already written or performed. He went through the hell and high water of the industry and persevered long enough to remain an immovable object - a timeless legend. An icon of soul.





Oh, and by the way, did you know that both Isaac Hayes and Bernie Mac are going to appear, alongside Samuel L. Jackson, in the movie Soul Men, which will be released in November of this year? Did you know that people are saying that since "Death comes in threes," another famous black celebrity - this time, possibly an actor - will be next to pass? Maybe they're thinking it'll be Morgan Freeman. Maybe Sam. I choose not to think that way. Maybe those who ponder the death of others should just kill themselves and avoid having to share the earth with those they choose to envy. Stop praying on another man's downfall, please.


And now, for his final encore, here's my favorite song from Isaac Hayes, "Walk On By," which was re-filmed for the movie Dead Presidents in 1995.





R.I.P. to Isaac Hayes. This guy was a giant. Oh, and one more thing: If he died worth anything less than $10 million dollars, may his trespassers die a thousand times.

COMEDY IS DEAD - MORE FLOWERS

Bernie Mac, a King of Comedy and one of the most deserving recipients of fame in recent comedic history, IS REALLY DEAD. Less than a month ago he was opening the show for the next POTUS, Senator Barack Obama, and throwing out some grimy jokes that Obama's camp had to refute. Now, Obama will never get a chance to shake his hand after November 4 and say, "Thanks, Mac." Of course, Mac probably would have responded by saying, "I knew you weren't scared of those motherf*ckers."


Here are some reactionary quotes from celebrity friends who woke up today like everyone else, only to discover that Mac did not join us for breakfast.

George Clooney:
"The world just got a little less funny. He will be dearly missed."

Chris Rock:
"Bernie Mac was one of the best and funniest comedians to ever live but that was the second best thing he did. Bernie was one of the greatest friends a person could have. Losing him is like losing 12 people because he absolutely filled up any room he was in. I'm gonna miss the Mac Man."

Don Cheadle:
"This is a very sad day for many of us who knew and loved Bernie. He brought so much joy to so many. He will be missed but heaven just got funnier."

SOURCE: E! ONLINE

And for a final encore, here is a YouTube of Bernie Mac onstage at Def Comedy Jam, which was the first time I ever saw his comedy act. Dude had me dead from the minute he hit the stage.





R.I.P., Bernie. Hope you're laughing upstairs with Redd Foxx, Richard Pryor, Rodney Dangerfield, George Carlin and everyone else. I'm telling you, concerts in Heaven may be hard to get into, but they're probably worth every minute.


"Throw it up, baby...
It's Brick City, you heard of that,
We blessed and hung low, like Bernie Mac!"
Redman - Dirty (Christina Aguilera)

CAREER-DEAD MCs

[please notice the phrase "Promotional Use Only" underneath "THE BOSS." True, true.]



If you haven't already heard - and it's everywhere right now - the rap career of "Rick Ross" is OFFICIALLY OVER.

The Smoking Gun has found records that *allegedly* show "Rick Ross", a.k.a. William Roberts, at some type of training graduation for correctional officers in Florida, shaking hands and smiling in a tight-ass brown and beige uniform.

This has been a two-week saga in the Hip-Hop world, as it involves a famous rapper (Roberts) that claimed to be a cocaine dealer and outlaw leader of his own Florida narcotics gang. He even went as far as naming himself after a California crack lord - "Freeway" Ricky Ross. As you would guess, being a one-time employee of the state prison system doesn't bode well for the reputation, especially while we're still in the "Stop Snitching" era. But creating the false persona of a criminal when you were actually trained to babysit them for the government is, if true, inexcusible and unacceptable.


Trick Daddy had already put the word out that Roberts used to be a prison guard, but without providing proof, it was just held as a possibility and an unfounded joke. But once the word got strong enough to spread, Media Take Out posted the picture, and the internet went nuts like Jesse. Soon after, Roberts put out his own YouTube joint, denying that he was ever a prison guard and saying that he would "see" Trick Daddy.





But now, all we see is that TDD was on point. I don't think it's so unreasonable that a prison guard could become a rap artist, or even a cocaine dealer-turned rap artist, but why front for the camera? You don't have to lie to kick it. Bad day - William Roberts. Good day - Trick Daddy.


"Fake thug, no love / you get the snub / CB-4 'Gusto' / Your luck low / I didn't know 'till I was drunk, though..."
Nas - The Message

REALLY DEAD MCs

Damn. Another one bites the bullet(s).

According to SOHH.COM, NEW ORLEANS RAPPER SPORTY T IS DEAD. He was killed in a monsoon of AK-47 gunfire in his FEMA trailer while he was sleeping.

Is this the promised outcome for pioneering gangster rappers? What happened to getting chubby and moving to Miami? Why did he deserve to be killed in such a vicious way?

Who knows. All I can say is that I wasn't at all fooled by the atmosphere of the French Quarter when I was in The Crescent City during the Essence Fest. I knew better than to take my out-of-town ass through the lower 9th ward. It's not my turf, and I'm under no misgivings that I am welcome anywhere in the world. Especially the destroyed housing projects of the world's murder capital. And as you can see, I'm still alive.

Now I suppose I should post a video or something that shows Sporty T doing his thing. Here's a YouTube joint of his group, The Wild Boyz, dissing Cash Money back in 2000.





Pretty funny, I guess, but I must say that Baby had the last laugh. It's 2008, and Lil Wayne is still outselling Coldplay. That's major.



R.I.P. to Sporty T. Hope you get everything in heaven that should have been yours on earth.

THE LAST LAUGH

George Carlin, who was a hero to modern comics, IS DEAD. I remember watching him back in the day, and always feeling like I was watching a lecture that you could laugh at. Dirty words sprinkled everywhere. But did I ever laugh out loud? Not really. I always liked Richard Pryor a little bit better, but I can appreciate dry humor, especially when it represents the counterculture and its funny enough to make you think.





PRYOR = G.O.A.T.
CARLIN = S.G.O.A.T.


But there's plenty of time for that debate. For now, may the man rest in peace.

FRIDAY THE 13th: NBC's TIM RUSSERT (R.I.P.) vs. R. KELLY

There was a subtle divide between intellectuals and philistines today on Atlanta radio. I was running errands in Atlanta this afternoon, and around 4pm, when I’m usually listening to “All Things Considered” on NPR, I suddenly had an urge to tune in to V-103.

Ryan Cameron, my old boss and mid-day radio personality for V-103, was talking to Johnny Gill. We won’t get into that right now, but I’ll post the audio if I can find it, because Ryan slipped in [NOLO] a few subliminal jokes while interviewing Eddie Murphy’s new best friend (sorry, Arsenio). Hilarious, I must say.





As he wrapped up the Johnny Gill interview, Ryan announced that the R. Kelly verdict was expected to be announced at any moment, so everyone should stay tuned. So I flipped back to NPR, because I know that “any moment” in radio means at least ten minutes. Back on the brain-worthy side, the voices of NPR were talking about THE DEATH OF TIM RUSSERT. I was like, “Whoa! Ol’ dude from ‘Meet the Press?’ Nah…” But yeah. Russert, only fifty-eight years old, died on Friday the 13th of an apparent heart attack. Life is stranger than fiction, and the profession of journalism is harder than life, maybe harder than Lexington Steele [NOLO]. No Terrance Dean.

But seriously, I always thought Tim Russert was the next Lil' Wayne of journalism. His steelo was always to confront people in subtle ways, so that the viewer or reader could decipher some truth out of all of the lies that politicians tell on a regular basis. He was obviously a Democrat, but he played it pretty fair throughout his career, as far as trying to seem bipartisan. Check this out:


Russert, 54, is a lawyer who started out as a Democratic political operative, signing on with Sen. Daniel Patrick Moynihan and gradually developing a reputation for devastating effectiveness at shaping coverage. He once leaked word to two reporters that the senator's Republican opponent had distorted his own military record, knocking the candidate out of the race and prompting the New Yorker magazine to observe that the man had been "russerted." In 1984, Russert made the jump to network news as a mid-level executive.
SOURCE: Washington Post


I’m sure that, if I looked hard enough, I’d find some shit he’s said or insinuated that I wouldn’t like. But who cares now. I’m sure Russert never saw his early death coming, especially in one of the most exciting political seasons ever. He was getting plenty of work all around television as one of the hardest interviewers in the game. And now, he’s dead, like many potential game-changers before him who were called back to the essence before the human race was ready to let him go. “Wow,” I thought, as I listened and realized that one of the major players in journalism was gone, just like that.

So I flip back to V-103, right before the announcement of the biggest story in negro news. Sure enough, as I predicted, The Pied Piper got off, exonerated of all charges. Pedophiles, urinators and statutory rapists – rejoice!! You just got another reason to continue to do you.





So the question is, who owned the day? Will this day be remembered as the day that Tim Russert, renowned journalist, passed away untimely? Or will it forever be known as “Kelly Day?” Which outcome is the weirdest?

You be the judge. I’ll be the executioner.

THE MYSPACE FILES (nolo) - VOL. 2

As I said before, THE UNDERWRITER used to be a Myspace slave, until he called "To Catch a Predator" and realized that Myspace is for secret perverts.




So now, Michael Jordan THE UNDERWRITER works for himself. Sure, Blogger gets its share, but I gets mine too. Get like me. The following post is a direct copy from Michael Jordan's dead Myspace blog, which was insanely popular before THE UNDERWRITER deaded it. You can't cheat the Reaper...

##########################################################

BIG BROTHER (Worth breaking my promise)
Current mood: sad
Category: Life


I'm writing this blog, in all honesty, with tears in my eyes. Seriously, I've cried a lot in the last few hours...

It all started in good cheer. Like I said in one of my bulletins, I had just recently finished editing a book. It was a triumphant coup... Me, the exiled music industry guru, being immediately connected back to the top tier of the business through my unbreakable contacts. Shout out to DL... I don't give him half as much credit as I should for helping me build my career...

Anyway, the tears are still growing in my eyes. But before I had anything to be sad about, I was having a great time chilling with two of my homeboys who I never get enough time with - Brian "B-Heat" Washington and Lance "Digital Fingaz" Matthews. I brought the Corona; they had the nicotene. Black men relaxing, reminiscing on the high school days and how we still have every potential possibility to take back our city and the southeast region - all in the name of quality music.

It was at the very end of a great time, talking shyte and remembering "the good ol' days", when I discovered that a great friend of mine, ToeJoe, had passed on in the last few months. And like usual, since I live in Atlanta, I had no idea until the funeral had passed and the body had been covered and laid to rest.

It hurt like I would never have expected...

When I found out, I had to leave immediately. ToeJoe was one of those few individuals who could walk the line between hard-core, thugged-out and intelligent, impressive and instantly loveable. We met at J. O. Johnson High School, and he co-signed me before I was willing to fight, even though I was raised to defend myself at all costs. You could have called him a "gentle giant", except for the fact that he was street-affiliated and heavily respected. I was lucky to have a friend like him.





This wouldn't have hit me so hard if he had not recently commented on my blogs. He was still living in Huntsville, and was very expressive about my writing, telling me that I was "the real deal." He even asked me to help him write his life story. But because I was "so busy"... I was lackadaisical about getting back to him about making it happen...

Now he's dead. And I'm very, very upset about it. What's bugging me out is that I didn't even cry two weeks ago, when my Aunt Gwen died in a Chattanooga hospital. It was almost as if I was expecting her death, so it didn't affect me as much. But I loved my aunt, so I can't accept that her passing was impersonal to my life. ToeJoe just happened to be there for a very influential part of my life, when others weren't willing to be nice or passive. You can't expect a gangster to be a gentleman, but when it happens you feel very protected. But gangsters don't show pity or piety; gangsters recognize strength where others ignore it. They recognize real, even when it's futuristic...

I'm fucked up over his death, which occured months ago to my knowledge. It not only hurts that nobody told me it happened, but also because he was sending me messages over Myspace about bettering himself and breaking away from the definition that American society had created for him. He was going for it, and I missed a great opportunity to be part of amplifying a voice of truth.

This is not my last blog, but I had to break my promise to not write another one just to honor the life of a person who meant a lot to me and many other residents of Huntsville, Alabama. Who cares if I'm late in eulogizing him; ToeJoe was a great friend. I'll miss him. Matter of fact, my eyes are watering again, even as I type... no bullshit.


COMMENTS:


R. Niambi

My heart goes out to you, Mike, I know you're in pain. Love you.

Posted by R. Niambi on Friday, September 14, 2007 at 3:09 AM



The Original

Peace Mike,

Again, I'm touched by your eloquence in painting emotion through a universe of electrical nodes for our eyes to see your inner-being. I hope this isn't the only time you break your promise because unlike many promises, this one needs to continually be broken. I feel your pain and know your struggle brother. Comfort comes in the memories we cherish. Mike, cherish those memories of your fallen friend. Keep striving. I can't wait to read the book.

Posted by The Original on Sunday, September 16, 2007 at 11:48 AM


Young Hughes For President!!

Toe Joe.....yeah, that was crazy. I heard the news out here in Cali, and I couldn't believe it. I had also been getting messages from him on MySpace telling me about his daughter, and how he was glad to be moving past being the thug that everybody knew him as. The crazy thing is, in my last conversation with him, I said that he was the last of a dying breed. The era of the REAL "G's" is over, and the world will be hard pressed to find another complex brother like him......

Posted by Young Hughes For President!! on Wednesday, September 26, 2007 at 11:25 AM


Rest in Peace, ToeJoe. We miss you out there in the 'Ville, even though I don't come home that much anymore...

IRONY IS DEAD

This following post is why you can’t be prejudgmental (is that a word?) when it comes to the intelligence of rap or rappers. You just never know; the same rapper who gets arrested constantly, associates himself with a gang and takes women to award shows wearing dog leashes might actually be a well-spoken, articulate, thoughtful, respectful and chivalrous gentlemen when asked axed about race issues in America. Even if chivalry is dead.




Conversely, a poster boy for nerd rap that would appear to have a superior I.Q., diversity in cultural understanding, a love for skateboarding, pop radio crossover potential and a legion of internet fans could actually be an intellectual Bozo, whose quirky image could just be a firewall that scares interviewers away from asking the deep questions - a “stupid shield” of sorts.




Because I have super powers and can read your fear-ensconced minds, oh my dear readers, let me go ahead and tell you what you think. You think that Snoop Dogg < Lupe Fiaschoe in terms of lyrical ability, therefore Lupe Fiaschoe > Snoop Dogg in the art of communicating his ideas. Snoop > Lupe when it comes to money, but not when it comes to brilliance, right?

Tha Doggfather:



Lupe Fiaschoe:




Right now, you’re thinking to yourself, “Wow. I never knew that Snoop’s intelligence >>> Lupe’s bullshit. Isn’t that ironic?”

Rappers Trying to Cheat the Reaper... Vol. II: IT'S MURDA!!!

If you actually know who UNCLE MURDA is, because most people probably don't, you qualify to receive a coupon for a FREE McDEATH BURGER at your local hood McDonalds, just for being able to prove that you were aware of the backstory before this post.

Ba-da-bap-ba-baa!!

Just leave a comment with your government name, social security number, telephone, email and physical address. I promise not to give this info to my telemarketing staff or Blackwater USA.

*DISCLAIMER* This offer may not be applicable at all any McDonalds in the world.




Moving on, there exists (maybe temporarily) a rapper named Uncle Murda, who represents East New York. He's gully, ganster, hard, brolic, thuggy--a vertitable tough guy. And he's signed to Roc-A-Fella Records, the label owned by Damon Dash, Kareem Burke and Shawn Carter, a.k.a. Jay-Z. I guess that the Jiggaman needed a roughneck figure to solidify his label roster, especially since he's got Kanye West repping for the emos.





What THE UNDERWRITER doesn't like about Uncle Murder's thug life coonery is that, for some reason, my man seems to take being shot in the head as a misfired joke. Peep the quote from ALLHIPHOP's exclusive interview with U.M.:


"If anybody, I think it may have been the NYPD. But who it ever was that did it, they missed because I didn’t even know I was hit. One of my crew told me that my face was bleeding and took me to the hospital. They said I still have a bullet in my head and if I am sexually active it will fall out [laughs]."


It was also reported all over the web that Uncle Murda is NURSING HIS PAIN WITH HENNESSY AND NEWPORTS. Far be it from my authority to say that cognac and nicotene can't be sufficient in terms of numbing the nerves. But this is, after all, a head wound. A doctor might have a better way, but who am I to say that a thug can't self-medicate?

But at least I now know that this is how a "real" gangster rapper responds to a "Bullet-Bullet" to the dome. Good. I love it when thugs laugh at being shot, thinking that death is a game that they can win. It only makes it funnier when I'm forced to report his obituary two weeks before his album drops, two days after never.

Just for extra emph, here's a poignant, poetic and creative rap song, in video form, by the artist known as Uncle Murda. Pay attention; it may be a subliminal cry for help. Let's pray that he avoids this blog in the future.





"In the Bible I read, 'Death is of the tongue / and if you talk about death enough, death is gon' come.'"
50 Cent - "Shot Down" feat. DMX

Real Zaggins Don't Die - N.W.A. Resurrected

SOMEBODY put my favorite gangsta rap album of all time on the internets. If you want it, go get it.




CLICK HERE TO DOWNLOAD.


Don't ask; don't tell...
(NOLO)

No.. NO... NOOOOO!!!!

Damn!! See what happens when you send an intern to do the boss's job?

One of those mindless flunkies from the dead sea of Hip-Hop internet forums recently asked me if he could volunteer his services on the weekend, which drew a firm "NOLO" and a fast "Fuck Off" from yours truly. But then this loser kept begging, saying that he deserved a chance. He needed a mentor, and since I pretty much rule everything in reach of my scythe, I guess he thought I would help. And he consistently sent dead flowers to my ladyfriends with my name on the giftcard, which actually turned out to be a great method of brown-nosing that I'd never before imagined. Now I have a gang of hot girls coming through the crib on the late night to crank that Jada Fire and cook breakfast for your boy in the morning, believing that I'm now ready for marriage.





So while I was getting some underlovin this morning from my new chick...




This idiotic intern of mine took my Scythe List and claimed the life of the wrong man. The name on the docket clearly reads "Mike Terner", but this illiterate scumbag accidentally scythed one of Hip-Hop's most influential persons. You guessed it...




What a tool. Anyway, let's celebrate Ike Turner's life today. Whatever your opinion of the man, the myth and the legend, he's been name-dropped in countless rap songs.


Check the catalog:




"My life's like kinda what my wife's like
Fucked up, after I beat her fuckin' ass every night, Ike!"
EMINEM - "Who Knew", The Marshall Mathers LP


"Put your fingers up if you love hash and cash
I been that way since Ike Turner was kickin Tina ass"
REDMAN - "On Fire"; Muddy Waters

"I wanna holla at that boy Ike Turner
You gotta know it's 'bout the paper and you learn her
About gettin on the corner for your daddy
What love got to do with it, I'm in the Caddy"
PIMP-C - "I'm a Hustler"; The Sweet James Jones Stories

"For now, we gonna plot and premeditate this murder
I heard a nigga say that you can't fuck with Ike Turner
So I'm gonna be that nigga who put these hoes out
Blacked out, locced out
Ready to go all out
And rip a heffa's grill out"
DRE DOG - "Ike Turner"; I Hate You With a Passion

"But if I tell her to turn her head, and I get a light turn up
I'm subject to might turn up, and flip into Ike Turner"
YUNG RO - "Head Turner"; Undagrind

"Make a slick kid mackadocious
Stay away from young girls, I crack a ol' bitch
Wifebeater, like Ike Turner
Carry five heaters and like 9 burners"
PACEWON - "Won"; Telepathy


Oh well, another Hip-Hop pioneer gone with the wind. I thought you knew it was gonna be a cold winter. Rest in peace, Ike. Hope that for your sake God is a man, or your ass is eternally skewered.




UPDATE:

MY HOMIE BUCKLIFE put me up on a couple other famous Ike drops from B.I.G. that I didn't remember when posting. New York, forgive me. Or go eff yourself. Your choice.

"Sade...ooooh I know that pussy tight
smacked Tina Turner, gave her flashbacks of Ike"
The Notorious B.I.G. - "Dreams"; Unreleased (sike)

"That's why I pack a nina, fuck a misdeameanor
Beatin motherfuckers like Ike beat Tina
(What's Love, Got to Do)
when I'm rippin all through your whole crew..."
The Notorious B.I.G. - "Machine Gun Funk"; Ready to Die




Biggie Smalls is the illest... (RIP)

SHAWTY LO - The New Eazy-E of ATL is Alive and Well

You know what? This dude just might have a shot at the King of ATL title, that is if he's not the next victim of the ATL ABC boys (RE: T.I.P. VS the ATF B4 the BET awards).

Not only did he quietly sponsor the rise of D4L, Lo actually had a major regional hit last year with the weirdly likeable "I'M DA MAN."
If you aren't familiar, it's the song that Young Jeezy reinterpreted stole when he made "White Girl". Tell me you don't hear the influence after you listen to both songs below...

SHAWTY LO - "I'm Da Man"



U.S.D.A. - "White Girl"




Both Shawty Lo and Eazy-E are/were short as hell in stature. Both of them have/had ill voices, and both talk/spoke about drug dealing, shooting niggas, riding clean and dirty and ephing hose. Eazy obviously had clout, because he always came across as the leader of N.W.A., even though he barely stood 5 feet tall. Something about him, whether it was the constantly present guns or the all black attire, spoke volumes about his ability to assume the title of Amerikkka's Most Niggerish. And because N.W.A. was down with him, they were able to use his "street cred" to make a case for their own relevance in the music business. See: Shawty Lo and D4l (last year)

I'm not saying that D4L can compare in any way to N.W.A. No Way, Asshole.






I'm saying that it sometimes takes a gangster dwarf to hold down the entire camp of "goons". That Napoleon Complex shit is real, oh my brothers and sisters. Just ask me why I keep the scythe ready for these roaches. I only stand about 5'6", so I can relate to the bullshit that Eazy, Shawty and many other midgets went through trying to make a living and bring home the breakfast. Shit ain't easy.

RIP - E. The game ain't been the same. It's now reduced to us letting imitation yous become the new big thang, even though it could never be duplicated.


THE UNDERWRITER'S FAVORITE GANGSTER RAP SONG OF ALL TIME:

This Week's Obituaries: A Great Week for the Death of Hip Hop

We interrupt this FEAR AND LOATHING post to bring you this special announcement:

I'm still on my grizzly as the grim reaper of Hip-Hop. It just so happens that this week was so busy in terms of expired rappers that I couldn't even calculate the damage until this very moment. So with that said, let's read the last rites for the week of October 3 - 15th. So what it's more than 7 days. My math ain't as good as my English or my scythe swang game...

Let's do the damn thang...


CAREER-DEAD MCs:

Unfortunately for you stans, I'm calling this one as I see it. I don't want to say that this person is done, but with all circumstances considered, I don't see how he's coming back without a powerful apology, followed by a powerful single and a powerful co-signer willing to forgive his nonsensical statements. Oh, you ain't know who I'm talking about? None other than...



Lupe Fiasco. Effin' the eff up.

The former homie snitched on himself by trying to excuse not practicing for a monumental experience - performing in a VH-1 Hip-Hop honors tribute to A Tribe Called Quest. Please believe that I would have been more than happy to replace him. And I know the lyrics by heart in my sleep. But when he forgot the lyrics, instead of taking one for the team (read: Hip-Hop), he made every excuse unimaginable to cover up his fuck-up. This dude had great potential in my mind, and now I don't think he's worth the plastic that will cover his thousands of unbought, unopened CDs when his label finally releases The Fool. Whoops, I meant "Cool."

Dig a hole, homie.

NEXT!!


LEGALLY-DEAD MCs:
T.I. (damn.)



I just can't call it right now. But when I think about celebrities that seem likely to beat their legal cases right now, T.I. is not in the top 1,000. Sorry. Really, I feel like something is fishy like Long John's about this whole fuckfest, but I don't really know what's up, so I have to sit back and say that it looks like Clifford Harris, a multiple felon at the peak of his career, is about to go down for weapons charges. Like it or not, a parole violation usually means prison. Let's pray for the brother; no b.s. I really don't want to see him go to jail.

NEXT!!!

REALLY DEAD MCs:
Big Moe



I remember "Purple Stuff." The song was always particularly bothering to me because it seemed to glorify the use of codeine, much like Hyphy celebrates ecstasy usage. But I also think Hyphy is a musical turd, with the exception of Mistah F.A.B. Screwed music had a cool factor that went beyond its own region, so you have to consider somebody like Big Moe's death to be kind of a big deal in Texas. Rest in piece, homey. The Lone Star State definitely lost one of its heavyweights in Big Moe, as you see in the picture... sorry.

I'LL BE BACK FOR YOUR FAVORITE RAPPER SOON, BITCHES.

DEATH BECOMES YOU - This Week's Obituaries

In memorandum of the fallen rappers, either in real life or in career existence, let us pause to recognize two examples of how trill it is in the field...

Really Dead MCs:
Stack Bundles


He got SOULJA SLIMMED in the Big Apple early this week. Lupe and Capo both expressed their remorse.

Is it me or is Bol right; nobody cares?

Not because life isn’t precious, but rather that everybody expects rappers to die, like they know that every day an American soldier will be killed in Iraq. Casualties of war…

Career Dead MCs:
Ric-A-Che



THIS PRICK had the old woman anthem of the summer in 2004. This song had a large impact on my current philosophy of the music industry – buffoonery sells. Plus he sounded like somebody’s grandfather on a weekend Cialis/whiskey bender. I can’t front; for a long time I thought he looked LIKE THIS.

To pay respects to the deceased, please CLICK HERE and leave a comment or something. Notice no news announcements since 2004…